Elite Traveler May-June 2016

elite traveler MAY/JUNE 2016 93

“Ballyfin’s dramatic drives were designed to tease and entice, and flashes of the manor flit by through the trees as we skim past rose gardens and rockeries”

Picture a regency mansion of speckled grey sandstone, magnificent in size and set overlooking a glimmering lake enveloped in woodland. It’s 1820 and the Cootes, Ireland’s wealthiest landowners, have just departed, leaving you with the keys to the estate. Overnight billionaires hellbent on establishing their new status on the social scene, no expense has been (or ever will be) spared in the creation of the greatest of country houses, a pleasuredome for the aristocracy. A heady scent of logs crackling in the hearth hits as a member of staff swings open mammoth mahogany doors to welcome you as master of the house. This is not the opening sequence to the latest British TV period drama; this is what it feels like to arrive at Ballyfin, a spectacular 20-room country house hotel tucked amongst the meadows of County Laois, a 90-minute drive from Dublin. The secret sin of many an English person is that they have never explored Ireland, and despite crisscrossing the world on a professional basis, it was certainly one of mine. It took Ireland to be tipped as one of this year’s hottest travel destinations, driven by a booming economy that has ignited a reverse-brain drain and a dynamic creative scene, for me to catch up. And where to begin but Ballyfin: the ultimate introduction to Ireland’s mystical landscapes, rich history and charismatic approach to hospitality. And so I find myself on a Saturday morning, not poring over papers with coffee in hand, but hopping up onto the rug-strewn seat of a handsome horse-drawn trap to tour Ballyfin’s 600 acre demesne with head butler Lionel and Billy, the Irish Cob horse. Light shimmers off the lake as we set out, and there’s a scent of warm stables mingling with spring. Ballyfin’s dramatic drives were designed to tease and entice while flashes of the manor flit by through the trees as we skim past rose gardens and rockeries, through woodlands and meadows painted 40 shades of green. We are out to explore Ballyfin’s plentiful follies, carefully contrived indulgences that range from secret grottos to mock-medieval towers, built with the sole purpose of keeping the aristocracy suitably amused. While you get the sense the Cootes may have been a little nouveau (their family motto was “cost what it may”) it doesn’t detract from the fact it's fabulous. As we crest a hill to snake around the lake, dappled groves of ivy-clad birch unfold, and below, the first buds of Ballyfin’s legendary bluebells. “Give it a few weeks, and they’ll put on the grandest show,” says Lionel. While it’s impossible not to be charmed at every turn by Ballyfin’s beauty, it’s the staff who bring it to life, a cast of such charismatic storytellers, many local with a personal and passionate connection to the estate, that its secrets unfold as a living, breathing being. Since Downton Abbey snowballed into

a global phenomenon, there has been a growing trend among the global elite to take over country homes and live life as turn-of-the-century aristocracy, with one estate in Scotland even offering a “below the stairs” experience where guests learn how to make beds and dress the master. Thankfully Ballyfin needs no gimmicks: be it the totalitarian attention to detail in the no-expense-spared restoration, the inherent magnificence of the grounds or the refined fleet of discreet staff, it's the most authentic of fantasies that I have no trouble slipping into – the problem comes when I have to tear myself away. While Billy isn’t always on beck and call to take guests out across the estate, bikes and golf carts set out on the main drive give guests’ total freedom to explore. As we head out to visit the ice house and custom-built picnic cabin, we run into Ballyfin’s billionaire owner Fred Krehbiel – whose family founded tech manufacturing giant Molex – and managing director Jim Reynolds, out for a morning stroll. As the many stories behind Ballyfin’s resurrection unfold, it’s their vision, courage and ingenuity that you’ll hear referenced countless times – how the pair hunted for years for a country house suitable to house Fred and his Irish wife Kay’s ever-growing collection of art and antiques; how they heard through the grapevine that the mythical Ballyfin may be for sale, a boarding school since the 1920s when a Patrician brotherhood had purchased it from the Cootes for the princely sum of £10,000. It was the start of the Troubles (the bitter guerilla war that preceded Irish independence) and the Irish gentry were out of luck, out of land and out of pocket. In turn the brothers, crippled by expenses, were finally persuaded to sell. What followed was a resurrection that pulled the house back from the brink of ruin, a passion project that took nine years, four of which were dedicated to the interiors. Finally opened in 2011, the result is less a hotel, more a living, breathing piece of history. There are some jaw-dropping details: from the mosaic Roman floor, installed after the Cootes’ grand European tour, to prehistoric elk antlers, an intricate glass house, designed by Kew Gardens architect Richard Turner, to a Baccarat crystal chandelier that once belonged to Josephine Bonaparte and now graces the Gold Room – palm-sized crystals dripping to the tip of your head. But it’s the Cootes’ personal family treasures, family portraits and pencil drawings that have found their way back through the ages thanks to a web of antique dealers, that give it such an authentic soul. Serious credit goes to British interior designer Colin Orchard, who has succeeded in crafting a world where not one piece of the Krehbiels’ private collection of antiques feels out of place. Of the 20 bedrooms, large sash windows overlooking the lake or water cascade, each is a work of art,

Above left: One of the elk antlers inside Ballyfin Above right: Portraits on the stairs Below left: View of Ballyfin from across the lake